


I Hear Birds Singing and it Sounds like Your Laughter

by Emilykrausjones



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Anne and Gilbert, Anne has a temper and I love it, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Romantic Fluff, cuteness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-23 04:36:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21314290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emilykrausjones/pseuds/Emilykrausjones
Summary: Gilbert follows a distraught Anne and tries to comfort her after a fight with Diana
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 17
Kudos: 291





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one shot I wrote for someone on Tumblr but I thought I'd post it here. It is unedited but it brought me so much joy to write them that I'm posting it anyway. If you care to send me prompts message me on Tumblr: matthewsradish.tumblr.com

The air was warm, and blossoms bloomed in sweet taffy colored sprigs as a light breeze tickled the back of her neck as she sat near the stream that had once brought her such comfort. Today the brook did not whisper, did not console. She heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and tried to tamper her surprise when a pair of worn, brown boots stood beside her. “Gilbert,” Anne said. “What are you doing here?”

“I- well,” he began. “I saw you take off before the Queens study group had even started and you looked distraught.”

Anne looked up at him, the sun making his dark curls look enticingly soft. _No_, Anne thought, _he is not yours to think about_. “After the protest,” Anne started. “The one at city hall…”

“Yes, I was there,” Said Gilbert, fighting a smile.

Anne rolled her eyes but let her lips curve into the smallest hint of a smile. “After, you told me that everyone forgave me because I right my wrongs.”

“Yes…” Gilbert waited for her to continue, settling himself next to her, letting his feet dangle just above the waters surface.

Anne looked at him, his face was open, curious. “I think I have found the one wrong that, despite my many attempts at employing my imagination, I can not fix. I have lost her forever, I’m afraid.” 

“That’s why Diana wasn’t at the demonstration.” It wasn’t a question. Anne battled with herself, the need to tell someone about their fight, and the need to pretend that it never happened. “If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to.”

She liked the way ‘we’ sounded on his lips, how such a minuscule word could set her heart on an uneven rhythm. She had always thought powerful words were synonymous with big words, but maybe there was might in the simplicity of such a fragile thing as _we_. And she did need to talk about it. “I think I truly messed up, Gilbert, more so than I normally do if that’s even possible,” she told him, her fingers running through the cool current of the stream, as she wrapped her other arm loosely around her knees. “But I don’t know how to fix, because I don’t know if she thinks I am even worth trying to reconcile with.”

“You’re crying,” he said, his hand twitched at his side, as though he might reach out to her, but instead he handed her a handkerchief from his pocket. Anne had not even noticed the hot tears slipping down her cheek. She wanted to be embarrassed, crying in front of Gilbert again and this time him recognizing it for what it was. Where was an onion when you needed one? 

She dabbed at her face, her eyes focusing on the rocks that rested under the water. Gilbert was gentle when he spoke again. “Tell me what happened, if you’re comfortable, and I can try to help. I can’t imagine a world where you and Diana aren’t able to continue your friendship.”

“I-it’s so complicated,” she started, trying to figure out where to start. “She was so disappointed in me for hurting Josie, but the entire time she was hurting Jerry, and how could I not worry she thinks of me the same way if he is not good enough for her and her future in _Paris_?” Anne could hear the bitter resentment in her words, taste it like liniment on her tongue. Her tears did not slow. Did growing up mean losing those who helped you get there?

“Jerry?” He asked, his eyebrows pulling together. “Diana and Jerry?”

“Yes,” Anne sobbed. She took a steading breath, taking the moment to find her words. “Diana and Jerry have been forming a secret attachment for weeks, and she never told me about it. It might have been so tragic and romantical, a secret beau,” she said dreamily, despite herself. “But she doesn’t even like him!” 

The tale finally found its footing in her mind and it came pouring out of her, cathartic and heartbreaking, all at once, and Gilbert listened all the while. “And how can she say that I am different?” Anne implored. “I am of orphan stock, and what is the difference between being penniless and parentless?”

“You are a Cuthbert now,” Gilbert pointed out.

“But there are still those whose opinions are unchanged by that fact, that still think I am trash.” Anne lay her head back down on her knees, contemplating what criteria decided the worthy from the unworthy. Wondering at what point Anne would become a secret to the people in Diana’s life. “I don’t know how to reconcile the Diana who is my bosom friend, with the Diana who could mistreat Jerry simply because he was not born with her advantages.”

“Hmm,” Gilbert mused, looking at the tops of the trees that cut the skyline like teeth. “I think she’s scared.”

“Scared? What is there to be scared of? Her entire future is planned for her,” Anne bit out.

Gilbert looked back down at her and raised his brows. “Exactly,” he said. “She has many advantages, Anne, but she doesn’t have freedom. She doesn’t have choices.”

Choices. Anne hadn’t even thought of it that way. She hadn’t even thought. “Rebelling,” Anne mused, rolling the word around on her tongue.

“I don’t think what she did was kind,” Gilbert said. “And I doubt that Diana does, either. But I think it comes from a place of fear. Of trying to have something that was solely for herself, before all of her choice is gone.” 

“I think you are quite right,” Anne said and then paused. “But how can you continue to kiss someone, knowing their attachment is stronger than yours? Knowing that what is just passing time for you is them listening to the birds singing and hearing your laugh in it? That when they eat a cake it tastes like ash on their tongue because they know the taste of your lips and nothing could be sweeter?”

She looked at Gilbert, waiting for him to reply. He had an odd look about his face, as if he was trying to work something out within himself. 

“Gilbert, may I ask you something?” Anne picked nervously at the grass along the embankment, not caring that her fingers stained green as she worked the blades between the pads of her fingers. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But curiosity is my besetting sin and I have always struggled to not fall victim to it and have never mastered it.”

His face was weary for only a moment before he nodded. “Of course.”

“What do you feel when you kiss Winifred?” she felt the heat creep into her cheeks but refused to look away and make it known just how silly she felt. “As I said, if it’s too personal, too improper, you don’t have to say anything.” Anne was rambling but her anxieties made it nearly impossible to stop.

It took Gilbert a moment to regain his composure, the shock clear on his face and Anne hated herself for noticing his eyes. How hazel was her favorite color, how it did not clash with red, but complimented it. 

“I,” he began, clearing his through. “I haven’t, uh, kissed her- Winifred.”

“Why not?” Anne asked in a small voice, her hunger for answers outweighing her propriety. 

“I don’t know,” Gilbert answered, looking at the space between them, their hands inches apart. “I guess because I’m waiting for the wind to sound like her laughter, a sign that I should.”

Annoyance bubbled deep in Anne’s belly, at Diana, at Gilbert. “So you’re leading her on? Hoping that when her father slides the paper with her dowery scratched on it that you’ll finally know she was right for you?” She was being unfair, she knew it, she could see it in the hurt in his eyes, but she couldn’t stop. She got to her feet, looking down on him, the wind whipping her braids about her shoulders as her voice rose up, up, up with the wind. “Will you move to Paris, go to the Sorbonne? You and Diana will be welcomed with open arms and fat coin purses there. Then you both can forget about Avonlea and the degradation that is farming and the waif of a girl who is only a stepping stone until high society opens your eyes to how ill-fit I am to associate with.” 

Gilbert scrambled to his feet, a look of shock and desperation twisting his features, but Anne turned away from him, looking anywhere but at the hurt she had caused. Why couldn’t she stop pushing people away? Some part of her wanted to see if they would fight for her, and was scared that they wouldn’t. Some part of her was scared that they would.

“Anne,” he said. “Where is this coming from? I am not bidding on Ms. Rose as if she is cattle, I am not even thinking that far ahead.”

“You aren’t _thinking_ that far ahead?” She spun on her heels, her anger at its boiling point, her blood rioting in her ears.

And then the world was spinning, as her foot lost purchase on the damp embankment, the nauseating sensation of her own mass falling backwards. And then came the cold embrace of water, her nose and mouth taking in the sweet, cool flavor of the early summer stream. Just as quickly as she went under, she broke the surface, a pair of warm hands hauling her from the tangle of her limbs as he brought her back on the firm ground, giving berth to the bubbling brook. 

“Anne,” Gilbert was calm but the edge of his words were fuzzy with concern, his pants soaked to the knees, like the stones along the cliffs of Prince Edward Island as the tide pushes out. He cupped her face as she sputtered and coughed. “Anne, are you okay?”

She looked up at him, her throat raw and throbbing, her clothes lead heavy, and realized how close their faces were. He really did have a splendid chin. And then she began to laugh. It began as a wheezing noise as her body adjusted to breathing once again, but soon turned into the deep laughter that hurt her belly in such a pleasant way. “Oh, Gilbert, I can not be beat for a temper,” she said around laughs. “I was hurting and it made me cruel, I should not have been so vexed. Please forgive me, Gilbert, sometimes you need a fall from grace to bring you back to your senses.”

Gilbert laughed out, his hands still cradling her cheeks, the sound more beautiful than any bird Anne had conversed with on her walks through the woods. He looked down at her, his laughter swallowed by the sincerity of his gaze. “Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, there really is no one like you.”

_If I wanted to kiss a boy, _the memory floated, unbridled, to the forefront of her thoughts, c_ouldn’t I just kiss him? _

And with that thought came determination. That she did indeed want to kiss this boy. That she didn’t want to waste the freedom she had been granted. That she knew exactly who she would want to tell after.

There was little space between them, but she closed it all the same.


	2. Dazzling in the Scope of Her Romantic Ideal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne had kissed him. It had felt so right, so how had it turned out so wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly didn't know if I was going to continue this, but I have been struggling to sleep and procrastinating on homework. So of course an idea came to me. I hope you enjoy!

Anne had thought of her first kiss many times. It had thrilled her, the idea of a handsome prince whisking her off her feet. Of a tall and brooding hero who was tender only towards her. Her imagination had conjured a thousand different scenarios, all grand, all dazzling in the scope of her romantic ideal.

This was moment, with Gilbert’s hand cupping her cheek, with her hands knotted in the soft fabric of his vest- how Anne loved those silly vests- it was so simple it made her dizzy. Because Gilbert was not a prince, but did he not offer to slay dragons for her on their first encounter? Was he not the first person to rise to her defense when she had messed up? Did his eyes not make her head feel like it was swimming in syrup?

The world quieted to the sound of frogs lounging in the creek beds, the rustling of crickets through the drying grass. The sound of Gilbert’s soft breath over her cheek as their faces separate only enough that their nose’s brush against each other.

“That was unexpected,” Gilbert murmured.

Anne grinned sheepishly. “I’ve never been good at doing what is expected of me.”

Gilbert quirked his brow up, Anne following the arch with her eyes. “I’ve always liked that about you.”

“Really?” Anne asked. She struggled still, even with the feel of the stubble from his jawline still on her skin, with the thought that Gilbert Blythe could love _her._ She was loud and opinionated and competitive and found herself talking to more trees than any one person realistically should.

“Yes, really.” He laughed, and the sound was so tantalizing that she wondered if she could taste it if their lips touched again.

She wondered when the last time she had heard Gilbert truly laugh was, when had his pain become such a part of him that his joy made her breath catch in her throat. She cocked her head to the side, smiling as she watched his cheeks dimple, his eyes crinkle charmingly.

He gave her a questioning smile as he caught her searching his face. “What?”

“Oh, Gilbert, I don’t know if I’ve ever heard a better sound,” Anne sighed. “Laugh again.”

“I don’t think I can laugh on command,” he said. “But I think if our days of fighting are truly behind us, it will leave room for more laughter.”

“I don’t want you to think this means I won’t argue with you,” Anne said seriously, her hands coming to rest on her hips as she put what little space she could bear between them. “I am not going to agree with everything you say and I still intend to come in first on the Queen’s exams.”

Gilbert took the small step it took to cover the distance Anne had placed between them, offering his arm to her. “You would not be my Anne if you let this distract you from your single minded determination to change the world.”

Anne started to take his arm, the warmth of the day seeping into her skin, the loamy smell of the earth making her feel as if she floated. And then she paused, fingers brushing the sleeve of his white shirt. And just as suddenly as her happiness had lifted her off the ground, she was sent crashing down with sickening force. Because how could she be his _anything._ “Winnifred.”

Gilbert jolted. She could see his own descent back to reality. A reality where he was courting a woman who was beautiful as she was kind. Whose family had connections. Who said the right things and didn’t set fire to her life with ill conceived ideas of righteousness. “Anne.”

Anne took a step back, her hand coming to rest of her lips, where she was sure she could still feel the press of his own on her. “This was a mistake,” Anne said.

“No.” The pain was plain on Gilbert’s face, but she knew she was right. “This is the one right thing that has happened in so long.”

“How can you say that? I- Winifred is a lovely woman and I should not have tried to put myself between you two.” Anne took another step back as Gilbert reached for her. She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts that kicked up like muddy waters. “You _should_ be with someone like her, someone who will look right on your arm as a doctors wife.”

“That’s not fair,” Gilbert said. He sounded angry, his fists clenched, nails biting into the tender pads of his palms. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

“What can I offer you, Gil,” Anne asks softly. “What will people say when rumors circulate when I inevitably mess up again?” She takes another step, another step away from her destiny. Because how could she inflict herself on him? He would realize she was right eventually, she would save him the regret. “What about when I put my career first? Because I can’t just be a wife, I won’t be happy.”

“I don’t want you to be a wife,” Gilbert said. Anne flinched involuntarily. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I think you know on some level that it is true. And that’s okay. I have always known I wasn’t going to be a bride of anything but life.” Saying it felt like pulling teeth, but she knew it was the right thing to do. “You shouldn’t have to choose.”

“But it’s my choice!” Gilbert shouted. “You can’t make it for me.”

“I’m sorry, Gilbert, I already have.”

She turned and did what she knew how to do. She ran.

“Anne!”

Her lungs struggled to take in air, she swallowed tears as she cut through the wood, letting her legs guide her. Despair made camp on her chest, a crushing weight on her heart as her boots slapped the dry ground. She was sure she had made the right choice, so why did it hurt so much?

———

Anne did not intend to end up there. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t run home, but the Lake of Shining Waters lay incandescing in the mid afternoon heat, the gardens hidden behind the facade of the sprawling white home.

She banged on the door, furiously wiping the tears from her face, her chest heaving, a spasm trailing up her side with every labored breath.

The door opened and a young maid darkened the door step. Her face was round, her hair pulled back so practically it bordered on severe. “May I help you?”

“I need to speak with Diana,” Anne sobbed. She’d meant to sound more in control of herself, but after the long run and the feelings threatening to consume her like fire, she didn’t manage it. “Please,” she added.

The woman stood shocked for only a moment. “I-yes, well, I’ll go and fetch her.”

When the door opened again, Diana Barry’s dark eyes widened at the sight of Anne before shuttering into cold indifference.

“I’m sorry,” said Anne. “I was a retched friend to you and I should have let you explain yourself. It wasn’t fair of me to assume I knew the whole story. I was just so shocked, that you had not told me, that you could have used Jerry like that. But I know now that you were scared, that you needed freedom. I shouldn’t have-”

Her words were knocked out of her, the weight of Diana’s small frame crashing into her. “You have nothing to apologize for, Anne,” Diana cried. “I was awful. I was wicked and cruel, you were right. I was unkind and I shouldn’t have done it and I should never have kept it from you. I just didn’t know how to tell you because I didn’t know what it was that I was doing.”

“Oh, Diana,” Anne sighed, holding her friend at arms length to take her in. She had missed her so terribly. “We have so much to talk about. I think we both have explaining to do.”

Diana nodded before wrapping Anne back into the circle of her arms. “I have to go back inside, mother has me and Minnie May practicing a piece together almost everyday.” Anne felt Diana cringe into her shoulder and she laughed, the sound thick with tears. “But I will come by Green Gables just as soon as I can, I promise.”

Anne pulled away from Diana, nodding. “It pains me to part from you so soon after we are reunited, but I will suffer it with the utmost patience.” Anne squeezed Diana’s hands. “I will see you soon.”

“Soon.”

And with that Diana ran back into the house and Anne made her way home. Some part of her heart healed, another crumbling to sand in her chest.

A bird swooped low over her head, it’s song low and melancholy. “You always know exactly what to say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the heck why did it get angsty I didn't intend for that to happen. But I love the drama of a slow burn :,^)   
Please let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed what is just fluff and the need to see Gilbert and Anne have a ~moment~ even though it's unrealistic. This weeks episode hurt and this is my balm.


End file.
